


baby count to three

by schlimmbesserung



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 16:53:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schlimmbesserung/pseuds/schlimmbesserung
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday he clutches a grande cappuccino that reeks of vanilla creamer and Dirk thinks it’s probably because he can’t stomach anything bitter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby count to three

-

Dirk works long shifts at the krunkest nightclub this side of town, under the reputable alias of DJ Stridenasty; throwing out beats that are so ill they are in need of immediate hospitalization, working up a sweat to rival that of a marathon runner sporting hyperhidrosis, and occasionally knocking back one ( _or_ _ten_ ) too many shots of the gayest alcoholic beverage on the menu (for the sake of irony, of course).  
  
He usually stumbles ( _smoothly_ ) onto the subway at the respectable and perfectly reasonable hour of five-ish in the morning, a little breathless with adrenaline, his heart still pumping in that rhythmic baseline and stray glitter no doubt dusting his face and hair and clothes. Occasionally he has some busty babe or dashing dude ( _or both_ ) in tow with him, but more often than not he has trouble even finding someone interesting enough to take back to his apartment.  
  
The tram is usually pretty empty, save for himself and the token hobo curled in the corner catching some z’s, along with a handful of other inconsistent nobodies, but somewhere towards the end of summer another commuter joins their happy, humble abode. He’s a young, goofy looking kid, but, in spite of his squared glasses and bucktoothed grin, he has a sort of chiseled handsomeness. His skin is that light, smooth kind of tan that comes natural rather than from exposure to the sun, and his black hair is in a perpetual just-rolled-out-of-bed state that even Dirk finds admirable. Not to mention he has a pretty choice ass, all plush and squeezable in those questionably short khakis. Yeah, interesting.   
Within the first few days, it’s safe to say the guy has captured Dirk’s temporary attention.  
  
He always sits in the same seat next to the door. He’s there before Dirk gets on and he gets off a short three stops later at the Park Place station, so Dirk deduces that wherever he’s headed it’s more likely work than school. He typically sits with his iPad-- and he’s either really dumb or really new to the city to be sporting that kind of tech in a public transit-- in his lap watching movies and Dirk can see the scenes flashing in the reflection on the window; mostly action flicks (think, Indiana Jones) and romcoms. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday he clutches a grande cappuccino that reeks of vanilla creamer and Dirk thinks it’s probably because he can’t stomach anything bitter.  
  
It takes three things.  
  
1\. He takes a sip of his coffee, evidently, before it’s cooled enough to be safely drinkable and lurches back, muttering in an absolutely horrendous, affected English accent, “Heavens to Betsy! That’s hot!”  
  
And as painfully fabricated as the accent is, it's just terrible enough to be endearing.  
  
2\. He nods off a little after Dirk gets on, lips parted slightly and shoulders jostling as the tram jumps and shakes. His glasses are propped at an awkward angle against the edge of the seat and lay crooked on his face. When it nears the time for him to get off at his stop and he’s still sleeping soundly, Dirk tosses a rolled up wad of old newspaper at him. He folds his arms inconspicuously and watches from the corner of his eye as the guy blinks awake, glancing around in confusion, then gasps softly and gathers his things in a clumsy rush when he realizes he’s about to miss his stop.  
  
3\. It’s been a particularly long night for Dirk and he trudges into the subway like his legs are made of bricks, flopping unceremoniously into his seat with a relieved sigh. He tilts his head back until his damp hair touches the window, stays like that for a while, staring idly at the ceiling. When he brings his gaze back down he catches the guy staring at him curiously, wide eyes as dark and green as a forgotten forest. He continues observing him silently, with this mildly nervous, lip-between-teeth look. It takes Dirk a second to realize that he can’t tell he’s looking back at him, because of his shades. Experimentally, Dirk tilts his head down a fraction. The kid averts his eyes so fast he probably gave himself whiplash.  
  
And by that time, it’s safe to say the guy has captured Dirk’s heart.  
  
Someday, Dirk will strike up a conversation with him.  
  
He’ll lay it on thick with the southern drawl because he just _looks_ like the kind of guy who’d get hot for a Texan accent. He’ll ask him his name and pin him to the wall in a grimy subway bathroom, rut against him and press a line of hot, wet kisses down his throat and show him what a _real_ adventure is. He’ll hold his hand and take him to Mickey D’s for a fancy, romantic dinner, teach him how to dance like a whore and show him all the secrets tucked away between bright lights and skyscrapers. He’ll bring him home and they’ll spend all day wasting space, tangled up on the couch and bickering over the fine line between blockbuster legend and Hollywood shitstain. They’ll hang their feet over the edge of the rooftop and watch the sun sink below the cityscape, bleeding soft, warm pastels into the horizon. They’ll kiss long and deep and all of their stark differences will fall together and fill up the empty places in each other.  
  
Someday, but for now they’ll spend each morning sitting quietly under harsh fluorescent lights, listening to the rattle and screech of the tram.

-

**Author's Note:**

> help i'm drowning in finals and writing badfic as stress relief nooooo /sinks into pile of chem books


End file.
